


Confrontation

by Circus4APsycho8



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Boone's Hat, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Fluff, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Circus4APsycho8/pseuds/Circus4APsycho8
Summary: My first FNV fan fiction. I think it turned out alright :D thank you for reading!





	Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> My first FNV fan fiction. I think it turned out alright :D thank you for reading!

Something's off.

He's not sure whether it's from the flashy lights of The Strip, the general atmosphere, or Six's oncoming fate. Boone could tell she wasn't at all intimidated-that much was clear from the way she carried herself. Strong shoulders held back, posture straight as a ruler, and chin up, there was just no way she could be anxious. Several times when they had been travelling together, he had seen her fidget, or quiet down a little. Those types of signs usually meant she was nervous.

The fact that she's not showing any type of emotion is what's unnerving him.

Six was always bouncing with some type of emotion. Oddly enough, he had always found it cute with her; the way she always tried to get him to lighten up when his past came back to haunt him, or the seriousness she practically emanated when they were in the middle of battle.

Of course, he never told her that.

In all seriousness, it was a comfort to know that he would have someone like her to watch his back. Before, he hadn't really known anyone who could keep up with him like she did.

His thoughts were interrupted when she stopped suddenly. He looked up to see what she had spotted this time.

The Tops Casino.

He wondered if he should do anything. Would a physical gesture be too much right now? After all, she was about to meet the man who almost killed her. He lifted his hand hesitantly, placing it on her shoulder. As expected, Six whipped around in surprise, all traces of cautiousness clearly erased from her expression.

He jerked his hand back suddenly, wishing he'd thought that through.

"Boone...did you just..." she started, a sly smile on her lips. Boone could tell from how her lips quivered slightly that she was, in fact, nervous. She didn't want her feelings emanating to him. The gesture was sweet but unneeded; Boone knew she bottled up too many emotions.

He let out a sigh, then cupped her cheek in his hand. "Six...it's alright. I can tell you're nervous, but there's no need. You're gonna get the revenge you deserve." He wished he could go inside with her, but still he knew this was her battle. She deserved to finish it off the way she wanted, so he had no place to tell her how she should do it. Besides, she needed him to guard their weapons while she was inside.

"Wow, you speak!" she exclaimed, her small grin widening just a bit.

"I'm being serious."

"When are you not serious?" she pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head. "...Just come back to me in one piece." The sniper chose to ignore the excited squeal that followed.

"I knew there was a squishy marshmallow under that rough, tough-guy exterior!" she gushed, every trace of worry temporarily gone.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled before taking a step back and placing a hand on his neck. "Just...kick his ass, will ya?" he requested, returning his gaze to her.

She shrugged. "I'll try my best. Don't know how it'll go, but..." the happiness evaporated as soon as it had appeared.

Boone understood the meaning behind her words. He didn't answer, but instead reached up to his head and pulled off his hat. He knew that she'd fallen in love with it ever since she'd used it when the two had met, and the sniper had been cautious with it ever since he had found out about her addiction to it.

It had been a chore for sure.

He took it off, then placed it on top of her head. His head suddenly felt odd without its familiar weight, but he knew she needed it more than he did at the moment. It fit her quite well, and Boone would be damned if he would lie and say it didn't look good on her.

The grin returned, and he gave her nose a gentle bop. She giggled, then handed him her gun.

"There aren't any weapons allowed, but I think I have a way I can sneak Chance's Knife in, at the very least. Will you carry these, for me, Ba-Boone?"

He groaned exasperatedly at her stupid little nickname for him. "Yeah. Be careful. I'll see you later, Six."

"See you," she replied, her voice sullen. He felt himself heat up a bit when she reached up and pecked him on the cheek, then turned and walked away, the skip no longer in her step.

He continued to watch as she opened the door, gave him a quick glance and smile, then shut the door to the casino as she slipped inside.

Boone couldn't relax for a while. He tried sitting on the steps, taking a walk to clear his mind, attempting to do something to keep himself busy. His mind kept shifting over to Six's health. He had a nagging feeling something would go terribly wrong, but he knew he couldn't help her. This wasn't his fight to finish.

He found himself staring at a strand of filthy, still-blinking lights whose inky color was pale and faded away. Boone had no idea how long he'd been waiting, but it felt like an eternity. Growing bored of the lights, he shifts his gaze back to the Tops, wondering where Six could be. So far, there hadn't been any signs of a disturbance or fight, but still he doubted.

He looked at the seemingly-endless ribbons of flickering, yellow light ripple through the curvy architecture against the night sky. Boone thinks he prefers the quiet of the Wasteland. There are too many people, too many situations that could turn against him and Six on a dime. He never did care for the business of a life here.

He wondered how Six had managed to get into a place this expensive; most days the Courier hadn't even had enough Caps to buy herself dinner. There just wasn't any way she would have been able to gather two-thousand Caps in the time she'd taken to get into the Strip itself. Of course, Boone never questioned her, because you just never knew with Courier Six.

The slamming of the casino door finally got his attention, his head spinning to meet the origin of the slam. There stood none other than Six herself, a scowl on her expression and the bloodied handle of Chance's Knife pressed under her arm in a weak attempt to hide it. He stepped up to her, about to ask her what in the hell had happened.

"W-we need to leave," she muttered, a fierce anger burning in her furious eyes. He noticed she was limping and that her free hand was cradling her stomach. He took the knife from her, put it in the bag slung around her back, then lifted her arm around his neck, using his other hand to sling around her frail waist.

"Let's get out of here," he responded, then helped her walk towards the exit of The Strip.

…

Eventually, Boone finally reached a small, abandoned, somewhat-dilapidated shack located a few minutes away from The Strip with a now-unconscious Courier in his arms. He wasn't sure how far away the New Vegas Medical Clinic is, so for now he'd have to make do with the little supplies they have.

He pulled her through what was left of the door, then attempted to kick it as closed as it could be. He looked around for a relatively clean spot to lay her down. Spotting a dingy little chair that was residing in the corner, he shifted Six in his arms in order to set her down. After he helped her settle into the chair, he looksed around the shack for anything of use. He found nothing but a full, unopened bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla.

Better than nothing.

Returning to Six, he finds that her eyes have opened. He huffed out a sigh of relief since he still wasn't completely aware of the extent of her wounds.

"Boone..." she murmured, and it was only now that Boone noticed how pale her skin had become. He kneeled next to her, then cracked open the bottle.

"Drink," he instructed, holding the bottle up to her lips.

The sniper continued to search as she gulped the warm soda down. Eventually, he spotted something shiny buried underneath a collapsed pile of mixed wood and debris. He knelt next to the pile of debris and reaches into it, lifting the splinters off before pushing them away. They fell off to reveal a small, rusted box. It was roughly the size of his palm, and after a quick examination of it, Boone determined that there's no way he'll be able to open it by himself.

After a few more inquires over its purpose, Boone simply tossed it to the side for now, deciding to worry about it later. He then lunged forward to grab Six's worn bag. The sniper fumbled with the zipper for a second, then pulled it open before he reached inside. Boone pulled out all of the medical supplies in the bag.

He looked up when Six gently drops the now-empty bottle on the ground next to her, gently handing its Cap to Boone, who tucked it into a pocket.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, zipping the backpack up.

"I was ambushed...serves me right..." she explained with a scowl.

He kneeled in front of her, putting his hands over hers before gently gripping them and moving them to the sides. He saw that the lower part of her shirt had been torn to shreds, blood staining the old fabric.

"Take it off," he instructed, blatantly avoiding her gaze.

"Gladly," she joked, voice cracking a bit as she raised her arms and shifting her gaze up to his heavy-set stature looming above her. He gently curled one of his hands around her bicep, pulling her frail arms through the sleeve before helping with the other side.

"God, you're impossible," he mumbled, tossing the article of clothing to the side.

She only smiled sadly in response as he examined her wound. It appeared she'd been shot; thankfully, the wound was relatively shallow. He was confident that he'd be able to get this under control in time.

At least, he hoped he could.

"Hold still," directed Boone as he opened the fairly-clean box of gauze, taking out a roll of gauze. Even with their low supply of Caps, the two still tried their best to have some medical supplies on hand in dire times like these.

He decided to leave the bullet be for now and let the doctors handle it later; removing foreign objects from the body was not his forté. Pressing a gauze pad to her wound, he watches as the blood seeps through the white before picking up the roll of gauze and weaving it around her torso until he uses the entire roll up.

"This'll work for now, but we should probably start heading towards the clinic," he stated, then eyed her nearly-bare chest. He tore his eyes away when he felt heat rising in his cheeks. His eyes landed on her ruined shirt. He finds a rolled-up spare in the bag, bringing it over her head and helping guide her arms through. It'd been one of his older ones. Instead of looking at her, he began picking up everything and tucking all of it away in her bag, throwing the rusted box inside with it before tugging the zipper closed. Slinging it on his back along with his rifle, he proceeded to slip his arm under her knees, the other going underneath her back.

"You don't have to carry me, Ba-Boone," she complained weakly.

"I know, but you shouldn't walk right now," the sniper replied, the finality evident in his deep tone.

"Fine," she mumbled, knowing better than to argue with him.

When Six was settled in his arms, he swept his gaze across the room once more. When he determined that the room is now free of any of their belongings, he continued onward with his journey.

…

"Six."

"Yeah...?"

He ignored the increasing strain of his worn-out muscles as he spoke to her, occasionally eyeing the Pip-Boy on her arm which had been draped across her lap in order to make sure he stayed on track.

"Talk to me. Give me the details of what happened."

"I...I walked into the Tops, and someone...asked me 'f I...'f I had any weapons. I said that I...wasn't armed, and then...then..."

"Six. Keep it going."

"He...let me in. I s-saw Benny in his...ch-checkered suit across the...c-casino..."

"Go on."

"H...he...when Benny saw me, he said: 'W...what in the goddamn-?' And then I...asked him to..."

His worriedness was multiplied by an infinity as he heard her soft voice begin to peter out.

"Six. Stay with me. We're almost there..." Boone pleaded as he tried to pick up his pace.

No response came from her as he hurried along the barren wastes.

...

Within a few minutes or so, Boone finally reached the New Vegas Medical Clinic. With burning muscles, he managed to kick the door open. Inside was a dark-haired woman whose eyes widened at the sight of the fallen Courier. The sniper didn't even have to open his mouth as the woman's expression hardened into something more serious.

"Follow me," she instructed, guiding him to one of the hospital beds, where Boone set Six down.

He adjusted her head so that it didn't lie down in an awkward position, brushing some of the hair out of her face. She was still breathing, thankfully.

The doctor hurriedly scurried around, picking up various medical supplies and rushing here and there. Boone debated on offering any help, but eventually decided it'd be best if he let the doctor do her thing.

"Sir, would you mind waiting outside? I'll need a bit of space to remove the bullet and patch her up properly. I'll come get you when I'm finished, and you may stay with her afterwards," she explained. Boone nodded and turned, arms folded as he trekked out without another word.

Settling down on a nearby bench, he dropped the backpack on the spot next to him. Tugging the zipper, he reached inside the old pack and pulled out the rusted box and Six's combat knife. He began slowly chipping away at its entrance, wishing his thoughts away.

He ended up able to pry open the box with a bit of halfhearted scraping. After he placed the knife down, he opened the box.

Inside, he found a charm. He picked it up, holding it between his forefinger and his thumb. It was an old bottlecap, one of the older designs belonging to Sunset Sarsaparilla. A loop of metal had been attached to its top, and there were remnants of string tied to it. It must have once been a necklace.

He tossed the ruined box to the side. This was right up Six's ally; she loved finding strange objects like this for some reason. Boone wondered if older things reminded her of something else.

His thoughts were interrupted by the gentle creak of the door. The doctor stepped out.

"Sir, you may come rest with her if you like. I've removed the bullet and cleaned her wound thoroughly. She'll need to rest for a while, but she'll be fine. You two are welcome to stay here for as long as it takes."

Boone nodded, rising. "Thank you, Doctor..."

"Doctor Usanagi," she replied, smiling a bit. "and I'd recognize this infamous duo any day. Courier Six and the sniper."

Boone smirked, quite aware of the reputation he and Six created. "Thank you, Doctor Usanagi."

She nodded, then turned. "Please, come in."

…

She lay on the hospital bed, eyes closed, breathing soft and steady, skin pale. Boone's hat was gently clutched in her hand, which was resting on her chest.

"She refused to let go of that hat for some reason," Usanagi stated, standing by Boone.

"Did she wake up?" he inquired.

"Yes, but I put her right back to sleep. I'd rather not have my patients awake while I remove foreign objects."

Boone nodded in understanding, slinking by her side.

"Dammit, Six..." he muttered, taking her hand.

Usanagi chuckled from behind him. "Make yourselves at home. I'll be just outside if you need me."

"Alright. Thanks," he mumbled, pulling up a chair beside the courier.

"You're welcome," Usanagi responded before he heard her soft footsteps trek out of the room.

He stared at her sleeping form for a little while before leaning over in the chair and settling his head in his cradled arms, still gripping her hand. Both the physical and emotional exhaustion of today's events were overpowering the now-faint adrenaline rush he'd been experiencing.

He peeked one eye out at her. She'd shifted slightly, but still hadn't awakened. The hat was still clutched in her tight grip.

He shook his head affectionately. If there was one thing he was certain about, it was that he wasn't going to get that damn hat back for a long time.


End file.
